


Luminosity of the Soul- A TMI Fanfic

by swanforest



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: F/M, like really really dramatic, not really truthful to canon but I try, really new to this site, super dramatic, what should i even tag, wow ive been on here for two hours and i already suck at tagging
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2016-01-22
Packaged: 2018-05-07 12:24:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5456465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swanforest/pseuds/swanforest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br/>I slumped to the cold, gleaming white floor of my cell, pulling my midnight black wings tight around me as another idea failed.  Burying my head into soft, understanding feathers, I let my tears fall like starlight onto the unyielding admas of my cell. How ironic. A holy metal, in the unholiest of places.<br/>---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Fall of Ember into Flame

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so, first of all, I hope whichever lovely human being that decides my work is somehow worth reading enjoys this fanfiction. I'm also terribly sorry if I don't update, I'm quite the procrastinator...
> 
> Oh yeah, and I'm new to the site. Yay, a fanfiction noob!
> 
> Well, truthfully, I've been writing for a long time, I just, ah, never really put anything up? The internet is a terrifying, critical place, and I apologize in advance to the Grammer Nazis.
> 
> Also, why does the site say that this work is finished? It's like, not. I have tons of writing to do before it's finished... Anyone know how to change that?

I cursed silently under my breath, muttering angrily as my plan failed, yet again. Nothing worked, nothing would ever work to release me from this hellhole of a prison. I slumped to the cold, gleaming white floor of my cell, pulling my midnight black wings tight around me as another idea failed.  Burying my head into soft, understanding feathers, I let my tears fall like starlight onto the unyielding admas of my cell. How ironic. A holy metal, in the unholiest of places.

 

I remembered the days when I was free and nothing could ever stop me. I was a union of wind and storm  then, with air streaming past my face in ribbons and the sun spiraling onto my jet-black feathers. No weapon on Earth could harm me and no cell in the universe could contain me.  But that was then, and this is now.

 

My name is Raven Pendragon, and I was a protector of an angelic race called Shadowhunters. But even they, with their swirling Marks and icefire blades, were never blessed with the flourishing magic that runs through my veins. For I, as Tessa Grey is, am something of a different descent.  Everyone whispers about the children of angels - tells about their powers and curses, even greater than that of a Shadowhunter, a perfect combination of magic and holy fire .  I am the stories in the flesh. They must  wonder, as they stare into the corrupted face of Valentine Morgenstern, about how God could have abandoned them. But they are wrong. God didn’t abandon them.

 

I did.

 

And now you must ask, why? Because they forgot. They forgot about my presence in their lives.  For over a century, I have watched as they slowly forgot about the legends of an angel with wings that resembled a handful of stardust thrown onto a pure black canvas. I watched as they scoffed, as they forgot, as they left me behind in the sands of time. They must wonder, they must have wondered who kept Silent Brother memories at bay and who bestowed the power of Marks. Then they assumed that it was themselves, they and their holy descent. They believed in angels whose feathers were whiter than freshly fallen snow, but would they ever have thought that that angel was something totally different than that of their expectations? Would they have guessed that in the darkness of night and cloaked in shadows, I looked like a black dove  perched on Lucifer’s throne?  As they forgot, I watched as the embers of their souls grew dimmer and dimmer. One day, I knew, that they would be enveloped in an ember that was a little brighter than all the others. This small spark would turn into a raging fire that  would blaze  toward the town instead of the forest, a fire that either could do no good for anyone or would make the world a better place- A revolutionary, a renegade.  A fire that could, and would, consume every Shadowhunter in existence.

 

And then my prediction came true. I saw Valentine Morgenstern, a spark  that was almost a fire. Someone who would change the world. And then I watched him torture Downworlders, lie to his own wife, experiment on his own child,  and sentence his best friend to death.  Then,  I knew the angelic race was doomed. At least, that was what I thought.

 

When he captured Ithuriel, it was too much. I rushed  down to the man who thought that he could contain Heaven, wishing to eliminate him from the Earth. Let him die, die a painful death, for containing the angel that had been already trapped for so long in Tessa Grey’s clockwork angel, for separating me even longer for the only thread of life  that mattered, for hurting my one beloved being in the entire world.  He will not live to see the blessed light of dawn, I promised myself.

 

 _I began my dive, pulling my wings around me as a dropped like a stone. I could  see Valentine’s raging fire, and I could see Ithuriel's becoming dimmer by the second. I could not let him do this, I will, I must end Valentine’s life before it consumed Ithuriel's.  As I screamed an avenging call,  I was overcome by shock. Some unusual, dark, laughing  force had suspended me in midair. I could not move, tied like a duck in a slaughterhouse above Valentine’s  rundown estate, with the bright spring green of the grass mocking me and wind flowing in the wrong direction. Little did I know that that was the last time I would taste_ wind _in a long time.  I hung, in shock, as all of Ithuriel’s_ beautiful, _unconquerable  light wavered and specked out._

_As I let out a long, mournful cry, the edges of my vision  swirled with black, and then I knew no more._

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	2. Angels are Broken- Chapter 1 add-on

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hurrah! 10 hits overnight! Also, Thank you, supportive friends that have been complementing my writing all night!  
> Since I'm a terribly cliche person, here's some music that doesn't go with the writing at all. However, I found it wonderfully whimsical and would like to share the love. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VeTw_okfb_8
> 
> Are there any weird copyright rules for uncopyrighted music? Hopefully not. 
> 
> Obviously, I don't have 10 friends to view this fanfiction, so I have faith in you, AoOO! 
> 
> No GNs yet. Thanks, Grammarly! You're surprisingly helpful.
> 
> Oh, right. Chapter summary. This isn't much of a chapter... More of an exert. I'll post some longer stuff later. Well, Raven gets really sarcastic and snappy and resolves to break out like the badass she is. Yay!

It was all very tiring, honestly. Sitting in a glittering, mocking cage with absolutely nothing to do all day (boredom seems like a luxury now) but fear the next time that I would be forced to see Valentine’s cursed shadow and make escape plans.

Oh, _wait_. I couldn’t even do that properly. I was an angel, for heaven’s sake. You’d think at the very least that I would be able to make various things explode or throw bits of angelic fire at Valentine every time that leach tried to get near me, but unfortunately, that’s not how things work. _I’m_ not even sure how anything works anymore. The balance between the demonic and angelic worlds was a fine line that would always be tread upon with only the lightest, airiest touch: Any more than that and the balance would be tipped. I don't even understand how Valentine had even harvested enough a _damas_ to somehow forge a cage strong enough to hold an angel- Ithuriel always sai-

A jolt of lightning tore through my chest at the mere thought of his name. Tendrils of blinding mist clouded my thoughts and pain, sharp and clear, ripped through me like the talons of a phoenix. Love was a double-edged sword, he had told me once. It was more powerful than anything the world could bestow, but it would annihilate you just as easily.

I regret. I regret so much.

I will escape. I will escape, one day, I will have my revenge, and the full moon will serenade my triumph.

_As I fell into_ unconciousness _, my entire body shook with disbelief. Angels are not killed, I thought in horror. They are broken._


	3. Darkness Falling

The next sunrise, I awoke early in the morning shuddering with nightmares. They pushed on my consciousness like hellhounds, laughing and demanding with silent howls to be free. My mind swirled with a mixture of repulsion, confusion, and loathing for Valentine. Images flashed in my mind, and I saw Ithuriel’s light smother out again and again, and I listened to his scream in my head as he awoke, unable to die, held in a cruel cycle by both Heaven and Hell. 

 

I didn’t know what Valentine was doing to him, but I knew that one day, he would pay for it. As I sat, crumpled to a cold, unyielding floor made out of the very material of my essence, I felt myself beginning to grow more and more flushed with anger. How dare he. Had I not promised myself that this man would never set foot on the earth again? That I would not allow him to further harm both worlds of Heaven and the middle ground that I stood on now? 

 

I was not only an angelic being, but I was one that was blessed with centuries of magic and knowledge. I would not tolerate being treated this way- and I would not tolerate a mere human treating my kind like a disobedient animal, I would not forgive, I would never forget this.  Blinding light flared up behind my eyes, eating away at the darkness like a bird of prey until I felt no fear. I would not be contained. 

 

_ I could not be contained. _

 

I lethargically stood up, and like a drug addict coming out of a trance. Suddenly, the world was comprehensible to me again. No longer did creeping shadows cloud my vision- I didn’t even notice them until now, when they were gone, banished by the light. Light that ripped through the haze like a seraph blade and sharpened details with crippling clarity. 

 

Flammable silk, the fabric of reality, stretching, expanding…

_ Burning. _

 

***

As Raven stood, arched upwards like a cat and body coming to life like a falling star, she recalled her old life, one where she was not obliged to be tangled in the lives of those she did not know. Most angels were one their entire lives, pure beings that had never known a human touch or ever even battled the dark forces. Raven, however, had a past life, one that was riddled with the stains of sorrow. It started in the late 13th century.

 

Born into a middle-class family and given a name that only bones and shadow remember, Raven started her life happy, but slowly, things declined. Many people at the time were deeply aware of magic, but unlike those that had come before them, they were highly suspicious of the dark forces. Earlier, there were beings older than this world itself that helped guide the inhabitants of the middle world. Slowly, however, these giants fell into slumber, and commonfolk lost their senses of light and dark. They began to fear magic of any kind, dubbing anything unusual as witchcraft.

**And so the hunts began.**

***


End file.
